I'm suffering +9 of a hangover this morning, so please excuse any typos you might find in the vague recollections I have of last night. Unfortunately, I cannot find any blue health potions, and my health bar regeneration rate is suffering from something of a relapse.
I didn't know half as many people in the place as I should have, so I clung on to those I did, which was primarily TMOS Features guys. The buffet dinner was sumptious (I had a feta cheese bake think), complemented by constant canapes that sparked the tastebuds into life. The only think drowning the talk of some theatre production or latest celebrity stunt was the chink of champagne glasses . . .
Which made it all very boring. If there's one thing about parties thrown by members of the press, it's nothing like I would imagine a party thrown by a Future publishing mag. You can't relax. It's a networking opportunity. How could I relax with the editor, deputy editor, executive editor and deputy features editor within earshot?
These guys are proper heavies - so much so I often think they have their own gravitational pull. The way PRs and ambitious hack contacts get sucked towards them reminds me of the Enterprise and some electrical disturbance. It is a constant threat.
After the suitably minimalist bar in Kensington had its last breath sucked out, we advanced to a hotel until around three. I shared a cab with a Feat writer who told me to lighten up - as she did last year. And, like last year, she won't remember a word of it.
It's the only thing holding me back she said. Next interview at Future, I shall try and lighten up. I think I was a bit of an arsehole in the last one.